I've been awful concerned over the state of my brain cells the last two weeks. I'm used to having a jinxed day that makes me want to hide from the world. The type of day where the fumbling, blathering, and foolishness compounds until I know I just need to go to bed and reset my brain cells to start over. But recently, I have started to wonder if there's something wrong between my ears. Perhaps it's early onset Alzheimer's. A touch of dementia, maybe. Could be, during that plague, the fever fried enough brain cells to make a difference. Or there's always the possibility I'm suffering multitudes of mini strokes, slowly killing off my wits until I'm left a blubbering fool in a corner.
Life is no more stressful than normal. I'm still chill as a penguin, cool as a kitty cat, cruising along in my oblivious way, brushing off anything that tries to poke me with annoyances, getting the pissy pants out of my system as soon as I feel it starting to weigh me down. I cannot blame a major catastrophic event, or even a piling up of chores or daily reminders. Life continues to chug along as it always has. I can not blame being busy, as I have removed the term "busy" from my life.
The "death of a shopaholic" could be blamed. I am still shopping-free, other than needs. I ordered jeans for my son, new sheets for the bed, bought groceries, gas, and the normal household staples. No shopping trips, or frivolous perusings of a sale or thrift store. I'd love to say it has had a negative impact on my ability to think, but it HAS only been a couple of weeks, and there really is no scientific data to back up that particular thought process. And if I'm going to be honest with myself, I DID order that shirt for $9, prompting a purge of closets that resulted in four good sized totes and bags being removed from just one room. I'm removing far more than I'm bringing in, and I seem to be ok with that. Ok enough that it can't possibly be contributing to my brain dead, fumbling oaf factor.
I have forgotten how to walk. I'm tripping, stumbling, shuffling, and sometimes, my foot just won't lift and I even end up lurching. It's comical to watch, and I find myself laughing quite a bit. So not only do I look like a complete klutz, but a klutz without a hold on reality who randomly laughs at nothing. Sometimes, I think I'm just feeling like I'm tripping, but I'm not actually tripping, so then I really AM laughing at nothing, which then must make me really look like a fool. However, judging by my hair, I obviously don't concern myself with looking like a fool.
I have completely forgotten how to speak. Words will be in my brain, flashing in big neon pink letters (always pink, and I don't know why), yet they won't come out of my mouth. Instead, there will be a blah, blah, blah, or uh, uh, uh, waving my arms around as if I can somehow grab the word from mid air. Sometimes, the word never comes, and I'm forced to use "thing", or "doohickey", or even better, "whatchamajigger". Even better, the word will come to me when it no longer matters one iota, yet my brain feels obligated to blurt it out, making me look like a confused old fool. This little tendency, which seemed to really rear its ugly head last week, made me think of Googling how early dementia can show up in a person. I may have grey hairs hiding in the obnoxious streaks, but I'm really not old enough to start planning on my entry to the Alzheimer's unit, right? However, I was comforted, when after nearly two weeks of this babbling, or lack of babbling, I heard someone younger than me do the same thing. I don't know if she does it as frequently as I seem to be, but it was a small moment of comfort knowing I am not alone.
As is obvious in the post, I can apparently type without a hitch, so perhaps it is a sign that I should just shut my big fat mouth and type more. Or just become a mute.
Every day chores and actions seem to slip away. I have even fumbled making espresso. I could say that's due to the early hour in which I'm making it, but this is really one of those things that typically I feel I could do in my sleep. I finally arrived home at a decent hour tonight, and was so eager to get those new sheets on my bed, but that fitted sheet was a STRUGGLE. I felt like the smoke of my brain cells burning away must have been emitting from my ears, because I turned that sheet around THREE times before it seemed to fit on the mattress correctly. And considering a mattress is equal measure on at least two sides, I should have accomplished that task within two tries. But NOOOO...there is something wrong with my brain, and it took three tries before I was able to get a fitted sheet on my bed.
I have poked my eyeballs with mascara wands, gotten a scarf stuck in my jeans zipper, slipped on the floor and nearly did the splits in front of a toilet, dropped a takeout container (in slow motion just staring at it with my mouth hanging open), struggled to bag up purchases, had to count back change out loud because in my head it doesn't seem to add up, and the list goes on, and on, and on. I have gotten so used to muttering "Such is my life" that I don't even notice saying it anymore. I have frequently found myself standing somewhere, wondering why, knowing there was something I was going to do, but in the span of 30 seconds somehow forgot. That's pretty typical, but when it happens over and over and over again for days in a row, I start to question whether I should go get a brain scan done. In fact, I even offered to go get one, after a particularly brain dead day last week.
It has even started to leak into my interactions with people. I'm typically able to make people laugh, find the humor in a difficult situation, and make light of situations to cheer people up. However, the last two weeks, I have started to wonder if maybe my thoughts are in English in my head, but once they come out of my mouth, they are gobbledigook, and that would explain why I am met with silence, a dead stare, or as if I have said nothing at all. Were it not for all the other bumbling moments of my life the last two weeks, I'd say the winter blahs have set in, and people are particularly more ornery than usual. But when you add in all the blathering, fumbling moments, maybe it really IS my brain rejecting normal thought processes.
And then, the answer came to me. The last two weeks, I've been choosing to do things outside of pouring that delicious little frosty cold beverage. I have been alcohol free (except for that cheap whine I cracked open in the middle of the day on Monday) for two weeks. No Jack Daniels. I've bought the Coke, but ended up letting my teenager drink it, because I wasn't including cocktail time in my daily activities.
So today, after continued ramblings and stumbles, I promised myself it was Happy Hour when I arrived home. I had nothing else on the schedule, except a changing of sheets, and I was going to enjoy a tasty little beverage to restore the brain damage I have done by....by....OH SHIT, IT HAPPENED.
*gulps down a few more swallows*
The brain damage I have done by abstaining from Jack Daniels. ABSTAINING.
The proof will be in tomorrow's activities. Depending upon the number of drinks, of course.
Such is my life.
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